


The Eye of the Storm

by Vashoth



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Where the Sky Will Be Kept, follow up fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:03:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4029460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vashoth/pseuds/Vashoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“And you have nothing else bothering you?” Saevin interrupted. “Nothing serious you’d like to mention?” </p><p>“Well sure,” Cha'cer started. “For one, I’d like to know why we even have dracolisks. They’re moody as hell. And the provisions are bland and tasteless. That’s probably Fen’s fault, though."</p><p>[This is a follow-up fic to Nebulad's fic: Where the Sky Will Be Kept. As such, it won't make a whole lot of sense if you haven't read that first.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Eye of the Storm

Saevin watched irritably as another batch of bright red salamanders scuttled from the tipped over riding boot and onto the grass of the Exalted Plains. Cha’cer laughed heartily from the other side of camp wheezing between great guffaws about the sheer genius of the prank. _Get it? Salamanders? And her name is Salamander?_ She wiped away fat tears from the edges of her make-up as Sera giggled. Fen’harel had the sense to hide his grin under a long embroidered sleeve. He pretended to be fascinated with the fire and the tin cans full of provisions as Dorian shot her a sympathetic look from where he leaned on Bull. She took a deep breath and smiled good naturedly at the General, sending both her and Sera into another fit of giggles.

Once upon a time Sera had told her that being people was important. Especially when she was the grand figurehead of a world power. Being people, she had thought, was a thing of the past when her immediate squad consisted of anything but. A former Ben-Hassrath agent snoozed heartily on the exiled Tevinter Altus they were in the process of shoving to the forefront of his nation's politics. The Dread Wolf himself stirred cold beans with such an air of normalcy it was hard to imagine him as responsible for the fall of all Elvhenan. And beside him sat the newly divine General of the Fallen Fangs and her girlfriend--the goddamn leader of the Red Jennies. Or accomplice. Saevin was never quite sure what title was most applicable.

They were her new clan, undoubtedly. And like her old clan, good humour and enough food to go around was absolutely necessary. She felt the breath beneath her ribs ease as she shook out her boot to check for any remaining fire salamanders before putting her foot back in. The wayward Keeper made the mistake of not checking the other boot as well before trying to wear it. Bright hot burning pain met her toes by means of sharp salamander teeth and the whole camp was giggling again. She pinched the butt of the salamander that had latched onto her foot with such vigor and tossed it lightly in the direction of the General. Her ponytail puffed behind her as she squawked, squirming to avoid the razor sharp teeth and claws. Sera was roughly dropped to the ground in the process and the giggles came to an abrupt halt.

Saevin would’ve been lying if she said it hadn’t felt somewhat rewarding to have Fen’s laughter aimed elsewhere for a brief moment.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

The map of northern Orlais crinkled under her fingertips as she spread it and Saevin did her absolute best to ignore the lewd drawings peppering the borders. She shot a dark look at Cha’cer’s hands and where they sat innocently perched at the corners, weighing down the paper like she had absolutely no idea what was causing the Inquisitor such frustrations. Beside her, Sera slumped on her side and clutched a mug of coffee like it was the only thing between her and death itself. As far as Saevin could tell, no one had noticed the General’s latest prank. Perfect.

“We should ride north today. The wind will be in our favor so long as we stick to the edge of the forests,” Saevin said as plainly as possible. She schooled her face to be carefully neutral. Perhaps without the satisfaction of a reaction, the wretched pranks might slow down. “Our harts can carry the supplies if we’re willing to ride dracolisks for speed. It may be uncomfortable, but it’s efficient. Thoughts?”          

Cha’cer was waving a finger over the map, her light purple divinity stretching out like a claw to dip into the ink well and circle phallic looking landmarks with an extra set of lines for further definition. Sae snatched the inkwell and put it behind her. The general didn’t seem to mind and wrapped the long wobbly claw around Saevin’s side without pause.           

“Cha’cer,” Saevin snapped. “You’re going to get ink on the map.”           

“I’m making art,” the general said smoothly. “Expressing my feelings. I thought you’d be so proud. You’re always wibbling about something, Snort. I just wanted to follow your _illustrious lead_.”

Saevin counted to ten before responding. “If you have a complaint about our travel arrangements, I would have you speak your mind. That is the purpose of these morning meetings.”

Sera yawned at Cha’cer’s side. Only Fen and Bull seemed to have noticed the terseness. Fen’s hand found hers and tried to stroke his thumb across the back of her hand. Saevin took her palm from his grasp and held her own hands in her lap, not willing to retract the spotlight from the general’s shoulders. As if to spite her, the general didn’t seem to care.

“Well sure,” she started. “For one, I’d like to know why we even _have_ dracolisks. They’re moody as hell. And the provisions are bland and tasteless. That’s probably Fen’s fault, though--”

“And you have nothing else bothering you?” Saevin interrupted. “Nothing serious you’d like to mention?”

Cha’cers purple eyes snapped up to meet her own, wide in feigned innocence. A lazy close-lipped grin spread on her face like spilled ink. She shook her head and planted a lipsticked kiss on Sera’s forehead, apparently deciding that she’d tormented Saevin enough for one morning. Saevin felt her blood boil as the opportunity for confrontation slipped away again. If she attacked now, she would look like she was overreacting and the general knew it. At least, she probably did. It was hard to tell.

“Then we will continue as planned.” Saevin concluded shortly, not missing the flash of malice on the general’s face. She tried to memorize it. “No reconnaissance missions this time, since we don’t wish to draw attention to our movements.”

Cha’cer openly balked. “You can’t be serious. We’re ass-deep in the Tevinter border with a handful of supplies and enough potions to keep the Bull alive for, oh, an _hour_? And you want to skip the reconnaissance?”

“We will risk the attacks of their ambush groups instead of their _entire army_. Does that sound acceptable to you, _General_?” Saevin returned coldly. She pretended not to notice how her voice spiked on certain words, or the worried looks the rest of the team was shooting her. Even Sera looked mildly concerned.

Cha’cer ground her teeth for a minute then relented, holding her hands up in surrender. That slim grin returned like a knife wound and she cracked some joke or another about the glorious Herald of Andraste but Saevin was already walking away from the table with the map crunched against her palm like a dagger.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

A couple of the hired mercenaries were already drunk, much to Cha’cer’s chagrin. They stumbled and giggled loudly, somehow sounding like a troop of giants on the fine sand plains. Cha’cer hushed them for the umpteenth time, ignoring the way Sera pointedly avoided her gaze and the twinge of guilt in her chest for bringing her girlfriend along. She’d insisted once she knew, obviously. The general had bet that she wouldn’t want Cha’cer out risking her neck by herself correctly but it was an obvious blow against Saevin’s direct orders.

Cha’cer wondered briefly if she should regret it. The camps she’d taken out were stocked with enough bombs to wipe out the blessed Herald and the remnants of the elven pantheon before they even pulled their heads out of their asses. It was the right move. It was the _safe_ move. The fuckin’ Herald could deal with it.

Another round of whoops and hollers sounded from the back of the mercenary herd and Cha’cer stopped in her tracks with a terse sigh. A couple of the men ran into her back and mumbled some apologies. She ignored it and grabbed her coin purse instead. Well, the company’s coin purse really. She did feel a bit badly about that.

“You’re not going to let us camp?” The boss of the mercenaries asked drunkenly.

“I said it was a reconnaissance mission. That means quiet.” Cha’cer sing-songed. “Can’t have you stomping around the campsite, right? So here. An extra sov for your troubles.”

The leader looked like he wanted to challenge her on it and Cha’cer dared him to. Just dared him to pull the axe off his back and give it a go. Her fingers were already twitching at her sides, hovering over the hilts of her blades. Sera watched her with a brow raised and looked down at the sand on her shoes when Cha’cer looked her way. Another pang of hurt. She sighed.

“Go home, captain. Your services have been rendered,” The general said tiredly.

It was enough to get the drunk man moving and she stayed long enough only to make sure he herded his troops away from the campsite. Sera’s shoulder bumped into her roughly as she passed and Cha’cer made a dramatic stagger out of it.

“What?” She hissed.

“ _Y’know_ what.” Sera returned, not breaking her stride.

Cha’cer growled under her breath moving to catch up with the sniper but a short cough caught her attention. Towards the dark side of the fire pit, Saevin was leaning heavily on her staff and staring at the general. Sparks of purple electricity threaded across her skin like webbing and gave away her cool expression as a front. Cha’cer swore under her breath and considered turning on her heel and joining the mercenary company.

“I remember telling you not to do something.” The Dalish elf strutted towards her like a fuckin’ Keeper and Cha’cer wanted to vomit. She was what, thirty now? And strutting like she didn’t learn how wipe her own ass within the last half century. “Very specifically telling you not do do this something because it would endanger our friends. Something that you went and did anyway.”

“Oh for fucks’ sake.” Cha’cer could feel her eyes rolling so hard they hit the back of her skull. “When you don’t wake up half on fire and partially blown to smithereens you can buy me a fruit basket.” She tugged at the black scarf wrapped loosely around her shoulders and rolled her neck as she walked towards her tent. As much as she loved the thrill of recon missions, the skinny black leathers only boosted her confidence for so long and chaffed for much longer.

A bolt of lightning hit the ground in front of her and the sand spiked up into sharp glass. Cha’cer froze where she had been, one foot raised mid-step, and pivoted to shoot Saevin an incredulous look. Her heart was thumping in her chest against her ribs harder than when she’d taken out the squads at the borders. She wasn’t sure if she was thrilled or angry but god damn it was giving her fuckin’ butterflies.

“Is this about Fen?” Saevin sneered. “I didn’t expect you to be so petty, but then you’ve hardly shown yourself capable of--”

Cha’cer laughed outright. “Sure thing, Squat. That’s the issue. You nailed it. Do you want me to give you a lolly or some shit? I haven’t interacted with babies in a while so you’ll forgive me if I don’t know your preferred currency.” Saevin bristled and Cha’cer ran the tippy tops of her fingers over the hilts at her side.

If Saevin noticed, she didn’t give a fuck.

“You,” She breathed out the word, “have been a thorn in my side since we started towards Tevinter. The jokes, the pranks, the fucking salamanders--”

“Oh come on. The salamanders were _funny_.”

“Enough, Cha’cer. You know my name and you _know_ that I lead this company. Is that it?” Saevin snapped. “Are you not used to taking orders? This isn’t the fucking Fangs- they’re _gone_ and what we’ve got now, _I_ lead. _Stand down_.”

The blood drained from Cha’cer’s face and she moved like she’d been hit. Her mouth felt dry and the buzzing of electricity in the air like a bug hovering just next to her ear. Energy left her like steam and the fingers that lightly brushed her knives were gripping them white-knuckled. Saevin faltered for a second then stood her ground. She glanced at Cha’cer’s hands on her knives and summoned her spirit blade to hold out in front of her like a barrier.

The butterflies in Cha’cer’s gut took flight and that was exactly what she needed.

Saevin’s mouth opened like she was going to speak and Cha’cer planted her fist square in the center of the Herald’s nose. Saevin let out an undignified squawk and Cha’cer _relished_ it. She had her knives palmed and sank into the veil like it was water. She could hear Sera yelling something at Fen in the camp behind her but it didn’t matter. Saevin was looking around and waiting for her to reappear.

Cha’cer planted her foot in the sand and Saevin swung out with the golden blade. It hit her across the gut and snapped the cloaked veil from her skin like a cold splash of water followed brightly by another bolt. Cha’cer wrapped her divinity around her, purple and thick like mud and it absorbed the blow. She gasped at the hit still, feeling the divinity shock and writhe. It pulsed in her hands and she whipped it across Saevin’s torso.

“You would’ve have had us killed,” Cha’cer snarled. “Dead before we even reached the fuckin’ city. Do not pander to me about protecting your _friends_.”

“I have led armies against magisters before,” Saevin pushed herself to her feet and shot lightning at Cha’cer’s feet hard enough to spike more glass underneath her.

The rogue pulled the scarf over her face and the wind shimmered around her kicking up the sand. She spun and slashed at Saevin hard enough to seriously injure. Or kill. “And how many soldiers made it home? Which widows did you mourn with? _Whose funeral did you attend?_ You are a petulant _child_ , and you do not understand what you risk.”

Saevin didn’t hold back on her next blows, rocketing the taller elf flat on her back and paralyzing her to the ground with an explosive rift. Cha’cer’s chest tugged upwards and she could feel the green wisps twisting like thorns under her skin. She screamed and forced her magic to wrap her in a barrier laced with purple. It was just strong enough to move her out of the way of the blade at the tip of Saevin’s staff. She rolled back onto her haunches and launched herself at the other woman.

“Is that what we are to you?” Cha’cer lashed out with her blades, not caring that she was carving into Saevin’s fancy staff. A thin glow of purple fire and ice coated the edges of her blades and whipped aaround as she spun them. “An army?” Cha’cer ducked another surge of electricity and the scarf around her nose and mouth fell loosely with the motion. “No. A _clan_. Is that what we are? Your fucking _clan_?”

Sae swung out with the damn sword again and Cha’cer let herself fall backwards onto her palms with a throaty laugh at the mage’s struggles. “You’re marching us through enemy territory with no back up against a fucking empire. Is that your idea of protection? Is this a Dalish pride thing?”

Saevin roared and ducked Cha’cer’s kick as the rogue righted herself. She pushed a cloud of bright hot lightning with both hands into Cha’cer’s chest and reared back to follow it up with a strike from the blade. "You don't have to trust my decisions, no one has ever trusted that I know what I'm doing- bit rich coming from _you_ though isn't it? _One_ of us has already killed their family.”

Her blade hit again with no divinity between it and Cha’cer’s side. The general cried out. She fell to the ground with a solid thump only barely missing the spikes of glass still sparkling with electricity.

Saevin retracted her staff immediately, a hand flying to her mouth and her eyes wide. She started spitting out apologies that Cha’cer couldn’t even hear, didn’t want to hear. She felt hands on her arms, Sera’s hands and she struggled against their grip. Saevin was being herded aside by Fen, and Cha’cer poured as much venom into the look she gave him as she found possible. He flinched and looked away leaving Sera to drag the unwilling general back to her tent.

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

 

To his credit, Fen’harel had done everything in his power to make sure Sae knew she was supported. It was a dangerous move, but one, as he’d said ‘would be forgiven eventually if not immediately’. She supposed that was the perk of immortality. They couldn’t stay mad at each other forever. Probably.

Still, guilt roiled in her gut like bad fish soup. Saying what she had about the Fangs… Even Fen had avoided her eye contact for a little when she asked if it was a cruel thing to say. She hadn’t had to ask, really. Saevin knew. But she had desperately hoped she was mistaken. Judging by the way Cha’cer had avoided her and given her the cold shoulder for the past week, the target had met its mark and the general was _at the very least_ wounded. Saevin cringed.

“She will come around.” Fen said, squeezing the arm he had around her waist gently. “She is not wholly unreasonable.”

Saevin snorted at that.

He tried in vain to suppress his fourth or fifth yawn and she wwriggled out of his grasp to sit beside him. She leaned her head on his shoulder lightly, staring into the fire like it might offer her a solution. It hadn’t yet, but it was worth a try. She felt very small. “You should get some rest, vhenan,” she pressed. “I will be alright.”

“You do not make a convincing case, Saevin.”

She smiled. “I know. But I have faced worse and have thus far survived. I promise I’ll be okay.” She tilted her chin up to kiss the tip of his ear and he hummed. His hand twined with hers briefly and she squeezed. “Go sleep, love.”

He nodded and didn’t try to fight the next yawn. His leaving left a cold stripe down her side and she huddled closer to the fire to make up for it. Truthfully, she was just as tired as he was. She could feel it in her skin like a grease that wouldn’t wash away. But that stupid face the general had made kept popping up when she closed her eyes and she felt sick with regret.

“You look like shit.”

Cha’cer sat next to her gracefully. Had she not spoken, Sae wouldn’t have known she was there. In her black skinnies and with her black hair down, she faded into the night air without much help from her talents.

Still, even with the surprise, Sae didn’t have the energy to jump or squeak. She looked at the rogue and opened her mouth to speak. For once, Cha’cer didn’t interrupt her. Purple eyes were half lidded and had circles so dark beneath them that they could’ve been rubbed off make-up. If she looked hard, she could still see some of the scarring from the rogue’s vallaslin.

Sae’s gut turned over in her chest and she didn’t know what to say. She opened her mouth again, feeling like a koi fish out of water and Cha’cer raised a hand to stop her.

“Don’t. It’s fine.” She said quietly.

There wasn’t any humour in her voice and Sae noticed for the first time how old she looked. Centuries hung under her cheek bones and scars raced up and down her arms and hands like freckles. It was a bitter thought to realize ten years prior she would have killed to meet one of the elven pantheon. And a week ago she tried to kill one.

“I’m not the leader here. I know that.” Cha’cer spoke slowly, her eyes sliding to the fire. Her hands clasped together as she leaned forward on her knees and one thumb stroked the back of her hand like a twitch. “But this is not a new war. And these are not new enemies.”

“I’m not a _child_ ,” Saevin spoke quickly and quietly. “I understand the stakes.”

Cha’cer’s eyes flashed in irritation and she looked like she was going to fight again for a split second. It was worlds better than the apathetic look that replaced it. “I… I know that. I know you aren’t a child. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Sae’s breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t mean to say what I said, Cha’cer. About your family and the Fangs. It’s was unfair and--”

“I know. Just shut up for a sec,” Cha’cer snapped. She groaned and let her face drop into her hands with a frustrated sigh. Saevin bit her tongue. “You don’t know what you’re asking of us. No, don’t speak, I’m not done. You don’t know what you’re asking because you can’t know. You’ve got the anchor and this holy army--whether you asked for it or not, I know--but you have it. Remember the gravity of what you risk when you do take risks and just…”

The general trailed off again. She rolled her shoulders back like she was trying to shake off the tension and frowned. “Just… don’t fuck it up.”

Saevin spluttered. _Don’t fuck it up? That_ was her advice? She furrowed her brows and opened her mouth to speak again only to be met with that deeply jaded look. It was impossibly bitter on a face that looked so young. Had been so young. Even Fen had slept through a few of the centuries and endured much with the comfort of _uthenara_. Cha’cer had been awake. Thousands of years of seeing her people lose more and more. Thousands of years of knowing she’d been one of the first to lose. It was uncomfortable to think about. Saevin closed her mouth and nodded.

“Thank you, Cha’cer. I will try.” She said. The general nodded gravely and pushed up from where she sat. “And… I’m sorry. I truly am.”

Cha’cer shot her a weak grin and nodded again. “I know.”

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 

She knew before she opened her eyes that the thing crawling across her face was a salamander. She _hated_ that she knew from experience. Outside she heard Cha’cer and Sera laughing and explaining to Fen who tried weakly to pretend he didn’t find the prank amusing. Saevin grabbed the lizard by the tail and heaved herself out of her sleeping bag to throw the thing at the offending general.

Cha’cer burst into another fit of giggles and let the creature scurry away about it’s business. “See? I _told_ you the salamanders were funny, Sae.”

Saevin blinked. _Was she still sleeping?_ Cha’cer gave her a knowing grin and wrapped her arm around her girlfriend's’ waist as Fen came over to kiss the woken Herald.

It was certainly something.

 


End file.
